Just A Kiss
by Ezzie
Summary: {COMPLETED} When Hermione kissed the teacher, she left him breathless. Shameless - Im sorry. I couldn't help myself.
1. Just A Kiss

**

Just A Kiss  
by Ezzie 

**

It was hot. It was always hot in front of a cauldron, no matter how cold the dungeons were. A bead of sweat dripped down from Severus Snape's forehead and slid sensually down his cheek, around the soft bend of his jawbone and into the heavily starched white shirt that he wore under his black robes. To an ordinary person this might have been distracting, it might have tickled, or it might have annoyed. But Severus had spent too many years in front of the cauldron to allow moisture on his skin bother him. He threw the last of the Boomslang Skin into the sky blue potion before him and lifted a ladle from the workbench. Stir once left, stir once right, and fold. He set the ladle down and walked to his desk. 

It was two days before the start of the term, which meant he had little time to prepare for the onslaught of dunderheads and mischievous children. There were papers to be filed, assignments to be thought up and, he noted with unusual apprehension, books to be returned to the library. 

"Might as well get it over with," he thought to himself. He gently cradled a pile of books in his arms and headed towards his sanctuary. 

Two days before the start of the term. Which means SHE would be here by now. She had been here on and off for two years, studying at the University but taking time to work with Professor McGonagall on research topics. Thank god Albus hadn't asked her to stay on full time. Her incessant meddling hadn't stopped when she graduated and her mere presence in the castle reminded him of those seven years when she was around. And if he thought about that, he thought about Harry Potter. Thoughts about Harry Potter led to thoughts about Sirius Black, then James Potter, then Remus Lupin, Wormtail and eventually Voldemort. If she would only go away! If she would only leave them - no HIM - in peace! If she would only get on her with her life like an ordinary person! 

But no, here she was, two years after graduation, after the defeat of Voldemort, after watching her two friends get married and start families. And now, he needed to go to the library and she would be there. She was always there, invading his territory. 

He pushed the door open, straining to make as little noise as possible. Perhaps she wouldn't notice his presence and he could avoid seeing her. Maybe he could allow himself to pretend he had these books to himself for once. This might be the last time he could be alone in the library for another nine months. He looked down at the first book he needed to reshelf. Overcoming The Dragon by Ameritus Finn. That belonged in the Animalia section. He timidly turned towards the tall shelves to his left. He glanced quickly down the row in question. Good she wasn't there. Severus quickly spotted the characteristic hole left by the absent book. He lifted it into place. 

In Search of Citocybe gibba by Lineus Malkin.. Severus slowly advanced from the Animalia section across to Herbology. She would be sure to steer clear of that topic, he determined and he was correct. She was missing and he was able to return the dusty leather bound volume on mushrooms to its home without interuption. 

Two more books left and both belonged in the restricted section. He took a deep sigh. Spitting Vipers and Arithmancy by Gerard Nuit. An outrageous topic that few gave credit to, hopefully she felt the same way. He pushed open the small door that separated the main library from the restricted section. It creaked loudly and Severus's face tightened up in hopes that she didn't hear it. He cautiously stepped inside the confined area. Quickly, he decided. If he had to confront her, he'd do it quickly. He found the resting home of the snake book and did what he came to do. One left. He knew precisely where it belonged. The Rise of Vultures by Sam Dreng - a book by an American Muggle that talked about his discovery of Wizards. He turned the corner and there she was. Standing exactly where this book belonged. 

Hermione was perched on a stool, one foot high. She turned her deep cinnamon colored eyes towards him. Her brown hair was tied back and she was reaching up to get a book. She looked startled so maybe she hadn't heard him. A blessing gone wrong, considering he needed to be where she was at this moment, and would loved to have done this without seeing her. Quickly, he thought again. Get it over with. He took three long steps towards her and lifted the book up from the cradle of his left arm. He motioned towards the empty space on the shelf with his eyes so she would know what he was doing. Quickly, his hand swept up towards the bookshelf near her waist. 

She cringed. She pulled away. She began to fall backwards, trying to avoid his hand and in the process overcorrected her balance. Repulsion gave way to instinct and soon he was helping her stay upright. Her feet were still on the stool but now her arms were on his shoulders and he was using both hands to hold her up. 

Awkward was the only word that could describe this situation. No, he thought, disaster was another. He quickly dropped his hands and his brain fired the commands for his muscles to move away, but when he realized she hadn't removed her arms he froze. 

He had to say something. He had to leave. He had to encourage her to stop touching him. The very sight of her, at most times, made him want to scream, and now she was standing inches from him at eye level. What was worse was how she was staring at him. Staring deep into his eyes as if she was searching for something. But what was she searching for? Was she ill? Did she need help? 

And then she was moving. Good, he thought. She was moving away and he could get out of this blasted library. Wait, she wasn't moving away, she was moving closer. He stared back at her, attempting to read her face. Her eyes were looking down. Did he have something on his chin? 

And then she was a mere inch from his face and he could feel her breath. It was rapid and short. He realized she was looking at his lips. 

Severus felt the warmth of her, before he felt skin. Then the softness of her mouth touched his, as she seemed to be testing what he felt like. With some sort of relieved pleasure she exhaled through her nose and the tiny hairs on her face trembled. He could feel them as she tried to move her face closer to his. Her lips were pressed firmly against his now and it was clear she had no intention of pulling back just yet. He could see her eyes were closed and in this state he couldn't help but admire the length of her eyelashes or the softness of the skin below her eyebrows. 

In fact her eyes were beautiful when they were closed. 

Her hair had just a slight covering of dust. He could see it sparkle in the dim light the library provided. Her hair was disheveled from working. And that smell, what could that be? Was it floral? Perhaps she washed her hair with some sort of lavender concoction. 

Oh God. She was moving again. And for a brief moment, Severus's mind panicked. He didn't want her to stop. But then he realized, she was simply adjusting so she could open her mouth. Her lips began to part slowly, as if waiting for him to comply and follow suit. What to do? Play along. 

He parted his lips along with hers and for several seconds they slowly opened their mouths together, daring each one to go further. And then hers closed again. He closed too, thinking it was over. But then they parted once more and so began the rhythmic motion of closing and opening. She tilted her head more to the left to get a better angle on the situation. Her lips were smooth, soft, and large. They slid gracefully across his, lubricated by their combined saliva. It was almost erotic, in an innocent sort of way. 

He could taste her now. Was that mint? Apple? She must have had dessert tonight - a piece of Hogwart's Apple Mint Surprise cake. 

Would she dare to put her tongue in his mouth? He found himself wondering. 

Severus's hands were still at his side and Hermione's were glued to his shoulders. Any casual spectator might comment that Severus didn't seem all that interested in the kiss. 

And then she let out an animalistic moan that set his balls on fire. He could feel it erupt from deep within her throat and spread into his. Up until this point he told himself he had been playing along. But now his hormones were involved. 

Her left hand moved from his shoulder to his back. She was testing the waters. Was she afraid he would push her away now? He felt her fingers dig into his robes - and gods, now they were moving up to the nape of his neck and into his hair. The touch sent shivers down his spine, and some biological instinct inside of him kicked in. He wrapped his own around her waist. 

Her curves were subtle, but easily found by running a hand over her robes. He could tell she was a fully developed woman. Her hips were enticing. Her ass, which he'd never noticed before, seemed to be beckoning him. 

"Keep them on her back," he told himself. 

"Does she want me to pull her close?" He consciously looked at her face to gauge what her reaction to that might be. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shut tight. 

Hermione's other hand left his shoulder and wrapped around Severus's head. Their faces couldn't get any closer and she was practically falling off the stool. He closed the distance between them with a step towards her. His arms latched tight around her tiny waist and his large robes enclosed her lower body in black. Severus lost all bodily control below the belt and in one unconscious move ground himself into her. 

He heard and felt her gasp and her eyes shot open in shock. Her lips stopped moving, spread open against his as if time had suddenly stood still. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising beneath him quickly. He could feel more of her curves now. 

He panicked again. Was she embarrassed? Offended? Why had she stopped but not moved away. 

But his uncontrolled sex drive was rewarded with her tongue shooting into his mouth, seeking out his own. Her eyes were closed again and she was deftly maneuvering her lips to give her tongue the ideal reach into his mouth. He felt the sharp tip run along the roof of his oral cavity and along the back of his teeth. But he didn't give her the satisfaction of meeting his own tongue. That is until she took hold of a handful of his black hair and used it to force him even closer to her. Her hips began to grind into his, and no amount of self-denial or intent to deny her what she wanted could prevent his tongue the chance to touch her. 

When their tongues met she groaned again and he became lost in her and in this kiss. Their breathing became synchronized. He could feel his lips becoming numb from the rubbing. 

CRASH 

The sound echoed heavily through the library and like two guilty children that had been caught necking, they both jumped instantly away from one another. Hermione had fallen back off the stool and barely caught herself. Snape had retreated partway down the corridor again with his back towards a bookcase and his eyes looking for evidence of the sound. 

He was still breathing heavy. He turned to look at her, at his nemesis. At Hermione Granger, the girl that had plagued his classroom for seven years and made him dread his job. The girl - no woman - that was now a goddess in his mind. 

Wait, this wasn't heavy breathing. Severus realized he couldn't breath at all. This couldn't be normal. The pressure in his pants was unbearable and he suddenly felt nauseous. He needed to sit down. 

He stumbled down the corridor and found the closest chair. He plopped down without his usual grace or calculated demeanor. Screw all of that. He just needed his mind and his body back. For several minutes he sat this way, even allowing himself to place an elbow on the table in front of him and rest his head on an open palm. 

After several minutes of calm breathing and pushing the lingering effects of her taste, her smell and her touch out of his mind he looked up. Her saliva was dried on his lips and he felt it when he moved the muscles in his face. 

She was standing timidly at the end of the corridor. One hand was crossed around her waist and the other was covering her mouth. She looked like she wanted to cry. Did she regret it? Did she hate him for playing along? 

He should apologize, he knew. He stood, but decided not to walk towards her. The last time he had done that it ended in... well... one of the most memorable kisses he had ever shared with anyone. He opened his mouth to speak. He would ask for her forgiveness, tell her he understood that it was a spur of the moment accident and that he knew it was done without thought. He would bear her no ill will for the inconvenience. 

But she beat him to it. 

"Should we find somewhere more private then?" she asked. 

Severus was floored. 

  
  
  
---   
  
A/N: This was all in good fun :)   
  
http://ezziem.livejournal.com 


	2. More Than A Kiss

**

More Than A Kiss  
by Ezzie 

**   
  
Warning: This is definitely R -> NC-17. It's not squicky. Just explicit.   
  
Plot Warning: You will want to read "Just A Kiss" first, for greater effect.   
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione had been studying the Potions master for well over three years now: ever since she saw him cry at the funeral of a friend. It was after the defeat of Voldemort and everyone had been invited to the mourning ceremony and later the wake. He had tried to hide the tears as they fell, but Hermione had noticed them when she glanced briefly to where he was sitting. There was no mistaking the trail left behind by tears that had momentarily streaked down his sallow skin. When he had caught her staring, he wiped them away, gave her a look that had made her heart nearly stop and then returned his attention to the words of eulogy being given. 

But since that day she had been unable to forget the raw emotion that had crossed his face and he had become a new creature in Hermione's mind. He no longer fell under the uncaring bastard category. He had earned his way into sensitive dark tortured soul; a category to which she had also placed Draco Malfoy and even Harry Potter on his worst days. There was a sort of romantic attraction about that type of man. One who would face the impossible, brave the unpredictable and then carry on with life as if nothing happened. That is until he was so overcome with emotion that he could no longer bury it under a pile of harsh words or angry stares. And that was how Hermione liked Severus Snape - overcome with emotion, vulnerable and unsure of himself or the situation at hand. 

Just how he had become an object of desire in her mind, she still couldn't comprehend. She had endured another year of Advanced Potions after the funeral incident and he had been more callous than ever before. Perhaps it was payback for seeing him cry. His insults were more pointed and his criticism of her near perfect work was more frequent. He couldn't stand her, and she knew as much. But somehow, after seeing him at the funeral, Hermione had rationalized that he had reasons to be so rude to her. The cruelty had turned into fodder for her constant psychological profiling. 

Then she graduated. He had, to her surprise, given her high marks and ranked her at the top of her class in Potions; but she suspected Professor Dumbledore's hand behind Snape's honesty. The lust for him had begun when she had started working with Minerva during her free time. Alone with other adults Severus Snape was a different man. Surely he was still quiet and introverted, but he was relaxed. He never eyed the other teachers with deathly stares and there was never any indication he was waiting for a lazy student to blow up the room he was sitting in. 

But oh how angry he was when he would catch her staring. Sometimes, completely exhausted from hours of study at the University and then several more hours of work at Hogwarts, she would carelessly sit at the staff table and let her eyes fall on his form. Two, five, ten minutes would pass before Minerva would discreetly prod her under the table. When she would come to her senses, Hermione would see the death stares coming from Snape. 

During those two years of infrequent visits to her Alma Mater he had managed to avoid being alone with her or having a conversation with her. That is until tonight when had come into the library to return a book. In her nervousness she had jumped away from his hand. It was the closest she had been to him in two years. The fantasies that ran through her mind during the day and prevented her from sleeping at night flashed before her eyes as the book, cradled in his long fingers swept past her waist and onto the shelf. Hermione's heart had jumped from her chest up into her throat. She gasped, she swooned and then she fell. Right into his arms. And then it had happened. 

The first moments were full of fear. She had proceeded gently waiting for him to refuse her, but the rejection had never come. They had moved intimately close to one another and for several brief moments of universal bliss she had been in his arms. That is until something, or someone- human or otherwise - had interrupted them. She was convinced it was Peeves. But that hardly mattered as she saw him stumble to sit down. She had brought him to the brink of his emotional capacity. For the second time in her entire life, Hermione noticed Snape was completely removed from himself. She had done that to him! It had felt so good, and she wanted to continue. But how? What would inspire Severus Snape to give in to this? 

He had stood from the tiny wooden chair in which he had taken refuge and collected himself. The look of hate had returned to his eyes, but Hermione had gone too far. She wasn't about to turn back and she knew her only weapon was to keep Snape off his normal path of emotional solitude. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. 

"Shall we find somewhere more private then?" 

A challenge. Where had the words come from? She didn't know. But the look on his face indicated that she had achieved her goal. He looked lost again and completely under her control. 

Flabbergasted. Was there any other word for how he felt right now? Stupified? Afraid? Horny. Oh god, he had to push that out of his mind. She didn't really want this. Neither did he. But in any case, the library was no place to discuss what had just happened. Even in his eagerness to remove himself from her presence, he realized that much. Whatever had disrupted his moment of romantic lust - no, just lust, he decided - was still here. No use in embarrassing the girl or himself when he apologized. 

He didn't trust his voice. He wasn't sure what had happened to it, but he could feel something stuck in his throat. Perhaps he was still having trouble breathing but he couldn't diagnose what was going on inside of him at the moment. He simply nodded curtly at her and used his head to motion towards the entrance of the library. She nodded in compliance, picked up her worn leather satchel from a nearby table and followed him. 

Where was he going? He realized he hadn't thought of that, although they were headed generally in the direction of the dungeons. She was keeping pace with him. God, her legs were so long. He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Return to the matter at hand, Snape, he thought to himself. Would the Potions classroom or his office be suitable? Neither, he decided. Both were reminders she had once been his student and he was already feeling awful enough about this. No use in remembering her as a child. That only left one place: the dangerous confines of his own private quarters. He sped up his pace, and she was now nearly running beside him. When they came to the fork in the hallway that led to the dungeons he took a left, leading to his rooms. She had missed a beat and nearly headed towards the Potions classroom. Maybe that hadn't been such an bad idea after all, but it was too late now. 

They arrived at his door, pulled out his wand and removed the secret spells that protected his private things. Snape opened the door, allowed her to walk in and then closed it behind them. Should he lock it? Would she be offended or feel trapped? Why risk it? He left he door unlocked. 

She walked around, almost too eagerly, and began to study the book titles on his shelves. One of her hands came up and self-consciously pulled hair out of her eyes. It was still covered in a light film of dirt from mucking about in the library. Her form was splendid in the candle lit room. Her dark robes suited her well and he could see the curves about her waist and then her shoulders. He didn't know how long he had been staring while he let his mind rove, but he soon realized she was looking back at him. He took a deep breath to mentally shake himself free of her image. 

"I would like to offer my apologies, Ms. Granger," he spoke. His voice cracked slightly before it recovered to deliver the words in his usual silky tone. Her eyebrows rose at his statement. 

"Apologies? For?" 

Why was she being daft? She had to know what it was he was referring to. The kiss. The kiss that still lingered on his lips; and although the smell of her saliva was now gone, it was still resident in his skin. The thought made his head spin again. He wanted to sit down, and thank god he had robes on that went below the waist. 

"For what just transpired in the library. It was inappropriate of me to kiss you." 

Snape thought he would die when he admitted out loud that their lips had touched. His heart was racing and he felt like he had drank a fifth of Ogden's Firewhiskey. And then her eyebrows rose again. She looked completely shocked. 

"I was under the impression that I kissed you, Professor. So you've nothing to apologize for." 

What? Snape muttered in his mind. She kissed me? She wanted that? And then he noticed a smile cross her face. It wasn't entirely an innocent smile either. She was enjoying seeing him in this state. The twinkle in her eyes screamed mischief. And suddenly Snape's doubts about her feelings turned into rage. His previous assumption she didn't want this was wrong. But he knew - or thought - he didn't want this. Oh god. Now she was in his rooms. 

How to get rid of her? Surely she didn't mean what she said, and didn't mean what she was implying. Perhaps asking her to leave would work. No, she was too determined. After all she had gotten here hadn't she? Play along then. Push her to the point where she can realize she doesn't mean it and then she'll leave on her own. He was glad he hadn't locked the door - all to better escape through, my dear. 

Hermione's heart raced when she realized that Snape thought he had kissed her. It meant she had broken through his barriers and that he wanted her. But now he was looking furious; perhaps it was the smile she couldn't help giving him. His brow furrowed and several candles went out in the room. He had never uttered a word. How had he done that? Something in Hermione's stomach turned. Was it nerves or lust? Now she couldn't tell. 

And now he was walking towards her, taking slow steps. Hermione swallowed hard and took a deep breath as he drew near her. She was just a foot from a wall of books and practically trapped. He stopped when he was within her personal space and he simply stared down at her. Was this at all like the stare she had given him at the staff table? Was this revenge? Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might fail from being overtaxed. Nervous. She was definitely nervous. Maybe she had been wrong all along about what type of man he was. Maybe he wasn't soft on the inside. Perhaps he was cruel and maybe this wasn't what she wanted. 

And damn her hair for falling into her face. Hermione reached up and tucked the defiant lock behind her ear. Snape grabbed her hand suddenly, making her jump, and held it tightly above her head against the books. She gasped as he leaned down just inches from her face. He looked deep into her eyes and she saw what it was that turned her stomach like this. The blackness of his pupils; they were like never ending tunnels. For a fleeting moment she wanted to be sick. She could feel his breath, and then she tasted his lips. 

The second kiss was no different than the first in terms of its intensity. He was attempting to dominate the situation, yet he didn't press against her hard. His lips were supple and forgiving. She could feel the dryness that their previous kiss had left on the skin surrounding his lips, but it didn't stay that way for long. Opening and closing their mouths simultaneously they continued on this way for several moments. If she was ever going to recover from this fear she knew she had to move quickly. It was clear he was using this as a tactic to scare her away. Why else the fancy trick with the candles and the pseudo dominance game? Hermione's free hand moved around Snape's waist and she used it to pull his body completely into her. She could feel his erection and it was proof that however much he might be trying to scare her, he wanted this. 

The death grip above her head released as he used both hands to slide down the sides of her body. Then he rested both of them on the underside of her ass cheeks, pulling them slightly apart. She gasped. Inside, she was slightly afraid of what he could do at this moment. He was lust hungry, she could tell, and he was trying to use it to put her off. But the taste of his lips and the feel of his body against hers was not going to let her out of this situation. She wanted it too badly and she had gotten this far hadn't she? He suddenly stopped kissing her and pulled back slightly. He then leaned over into her ear and whispered, "Is this how you pictured it Ms. Granger?" 

Snape was convinced his plan was working. He ground his hips subconsciously into her while he waited for her answer. He told himself it must be adding to her thoughts that he was a sex-crazed fiend and something to avoid. Which, at this point, he had to admit to himself he was. Just get her out of the room and finish this on your own. No need to make this mistake, he told himself. So he had stopped the kiss to give her time to get out of this situation. She was panting. Good, he thought, she is afraid. However, it didn't help him at all that the hot air coming from her trembling lips was rushing across his ears and making his pants feel even tighter. She seemed to be thinking and then he felt her take a deep breath. She pressed her cheek against his and spoke. 

"Yes, it is. Only you were wearing less clothes." 

He felt his body stiffen uncontrollably and his hands grip her ass more tightly. She gasped again at his roughness and her hips thrust against his even harder. That was not the answer he was expecting and he didn't know what to say. He could feel her eyelashes against his face batting quickly. She was clearly nervous at the prospect of the words she had just spoken. There was hope, he felt, that all was not lost and that they could both still recover from this situation without falling deeper into the pit of desire. Snape released his hands from her and pulled away slightly. Hermione left her arms around him, seemingly determined to continue on with this game. 

He reached behind his waist, gathered her hands in his and guided them up to the first buttons on his robes. Snape wasn't sure what he was doing now, discouraging her or helping her. The look of shock on her face was confusing. Was she excited because she thought he was going to go through with it, or was she scared to death? Regardless, her hands just sat there on his chest after he let go. She wasn't attempting to undo the buttons or tear his robes open. Ah good, he thought, she is beginning to realize she should stop. 

"Well Ms. Granger? I believe this is your fantasy. Are you going to get on with it?" 

His words were intentionally harsh. He wanted her to hate him, to back off, to flee in fear. Then he could blame himself for what happened, and not her. And he wished to god she would leave now. This pressure in his groin was turning into pain and he needed to fix that problem. 

She had spoken the words, again not knowing where they came from. And for the third time in the night she had taken control of the situation, put him on guard and seen - rather felt - how insecure and unsure he was. Hermione was convinced he wanted her. What else could explain the way he held her, touched her, and kissed her. And now he was going to take her up on this fantasy, daring her to undress him. But that's what he wanted, what he was expecting. Why let him have his way so easily? Why give in? 

With shaking hands she unbuttoned the top of his robes. There were only a few more complicated buttons to go. Each one seemed to take so unbearably long to pull from the loop that they were threaded through. She could feel Snape staring at her. His stare bore into her forehead and she couldn't dare think of looking up. His chest was rising and falling quickly beneath her fingers. And then finally the last button was undone. She slipped her hands underneath his robe, over his shoulders and then slipped it off of him. It fell into a heap of blackness at his feet. 

And just as her subconscious began celebrating at this accomplishment she realized she was nowhere near his naked chest. He had on a thick black overcoat and some sort of white collared shirt underneath. She quickly went to the buttons on the overcoat and undid them. All the while she could feel his stare. He wasn't helping her at all. Gods, there must be thirty buttons on the garment. Hermione was losing her will, quickly as she fumbled. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She was afraid she was losing her nerve. Even her arms were tired from reaching up to undo the buttons. Finally when they were all undone she pushed her hands underneath the thick fabric, up to his shoulders again and pushed the cloth back. But it hung. Crap. What did she forget? 

Snape cleared his throat and held up his arms. There were five tiny buttons at the cuffs. She looked up at him and saw a playful smirk, and then he undid the buttons himself. He was helping now? Okay, yes this was much better, Hermione decided. He let the thick fabric fall to the floor at his feet the way his robe had. And now she was left only with a soft, thin white button-up shirt. It clung to him so beautifully, showing off his broad chest. It was light enough that she could see the outline of his pectoral muscles. In a single move of impatience she put her hands on his waist and yanked up on the shirt. It felt like a combination of fine linen and silk. 

Brief thoughts of Muggle movies where women wore men's shirts as semi-feminine lingerie flowed through her mind. It was now a secondary goal to take this shirt with her when this was all done. Hermione figured she could sleep every night in it for the rest of her life and be the happiest woman alive. But Snape seemed to flinch when she pulled hard on the soft fabric. Only the sides had been freed from his pants, and a thick voice interrupted her train of thought. 

"Careful." 

It wasn't an admonishment, more like careful guidance. It must be expensive. He then pulled his shirt out the rest of the way for her. But now what? She was millimeters away from Snape's bare chest and he was expecting her to unbutton it. He was almost daring her to by pushing her to the point where she had no choice. He had made her admit the fantasy to him. He was in full control again and that's not what she wanted. If she were going to have Snape, she would have him her way. And in this case, that meant to take him completely by surprise. 

Snape was enjoying watching the girl shake before him. He knew she would never make it all the way to undressing him. It had taken her five minutes to get through his robe, his overcoat and then to pull the sensuously fine shirt out of his pants to begin unbuttoning it. And now she was just standing there staring at the gleam of the white silk in the candlelight. He knew what she was thinking - "This is wrong. I should stop." He was just waiting for her to say it. But she never did. 

Before he knew what was happening, he felt her cold fingers on bare skin underneath his shirt. She had snuck her hands up around his waist and walked in close to him all the while running her fingers up his back. Her touch was so gentle and so foreign that he felt his breath shudder in his chest. She came as close as she could so she could reach all the way up his back, and when she had done so she then softly caressed the area between his shoulder blades, down his spine and around to his chest. Her lips opened slightly as she palmed his pectoral muscles and then ran both hands down his abs. Hermione's face seemed to brighten as she felt the old, but well maintained muscles beneath the skin. And it was only then that he realized this was encouraging her and that he didn't want her to stop. 

Her hands slid further down to his bellybutton and then stopped. She looked up into his eyes and he knew he had betrayed his emotions to her at that moment. He was breathing heavily and he couldn't have made one of his infamous sneers to save his life. Her eyes were so beautiful. He couldn't stop staring into them. She had a slight smile on her face and her eyebrows raised as he felt her finger slide just below the waistline of his pants. Was she asking permission? She pretended to fumble slightly, hoping to get a reaction. The only one he could give was to reach up and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Her smile grew and she now used both hands to undo the buttons on the front of his pants. 

Hermione was elated. Snape was now shaking under her touch, undoing the last bits of clothing that separated her from his bare chest. And she had surprised him, again. The game was almost too much fun but she knew it would quickly escalate. Once he was naked, there was no turning back. Strategy would no longer be necessary and they would dive into the more intimate throws of passion. There would be no doubt that either of them wanted this. 

When the last button on his pants was undone, Hermione timidly reached up and put her fingers underneath the waist of his pants to pull them down. 

Snape's hands shot down and grabbed her wrists. She raised her head and stared into his eyes. He had completely undone all the buttons on his white shirt and his chest stood exposed before her now. For some reason she couldn't explain, her mouth began to water. 

"Ms. Granger. For what it's worth, I will not be offended if you wish to stop." 

Had he felt her apprehension? Maybe he had felt it all along. Maybe this isn't what she wanted? Of course it was! This is what she had been dreaming of for years. Here he was in her control. And god, his chest was right in front of her. Her eyes left his face and stared at the light dusting of black hair. She wanted so badly to touch it, but he still had her hands. She had only one option. 

Hermione leaned forward and brushed her lips against his sternum. The skin was so smooth and soft that she wondered if they would even get farther in this interlude. A woman could spend an entire day adoring this area of flesh. Snape's chest rose quickly under her touch and it was obvious he was enjoying this as much as she was. His grip loosened and when she made the move to pull her arms free, he didn't stop her. While continuing to kiss his chest, Hermione's hands came up under the shirt to his shoulders and pulled it off his body. 

"Ms. Granger." 

She heard him, but didn't respond. She was too busy taking in the pale skin with her eyes. The perfectly sculpted chest with just a slight hint of definition in his abdominal area, the tiny scar above his left nipple where it looked like he'd been cut by a knife, a mole on his left side right about where his appendix would be, and a freckle above his bellybutton. His nipples were a soft brown. Were they as sensitive as hers? Would he be offended if she outright touched them? Hermione decided that it would be best to approach that issue indirectly: she ran her palms over them, eliciting a quick inhale on his part. Yes, they must be sensitive. From there she ran her palms over his shoulders, remarking the beauty of the definition his collarbone made. 

"Ms. Granger?" 

Yes, she heard the voice again and paid no attention. She was in heaven, in a trance, in another dimension. This almost didn't seem real. Her hands moved down his arms, to his elbows. She had fantasized so often about how beautifully sculpted his muscles must be, and she was not disappointed. She could feel where the muscle attached to the bones and their heavy definition beneath the lean skin. She pulled back slightly to get a better look, her eyes briefly glancing down at the open pants she had abandoned suddenly. A sense of loss overcame her. There was too much to discover and she felt helpless at the fact she couldn't do it all at once. Her eyes then followed her touched from his elbows to the top of his hands and then she flipped them over and saw It. 

It. It had never been there in her fantasies, she was stupid to have forgotten it. It - his link to the Death Eaters; the heavy black mark that scarred his forearm and her memories. A rush of sickness came over her briefly as her hands moved back up his arms and her thumb timidly rubbed the Dark Mark. She stared at it in all its ugliness. Never before had she seen one so up close, not even Draco's when he had showed it to her. It was so hideous, this thing. She must have been staring forever. It felt like forever anyway. 

"Hermione?" 

He said her name. Oh god, he'd been trying to get her attention for the past five minutes while she adored his nakedness. Was this what he was trying to avoid? Had she ruined the moment? She raised her head. 

"Yes?" 

"I will understand if you don't wish to continue." Snape's voice was almost lovingly gentle. He had no doubt been expecting her reaction. Hermione wanted to kick herself for not envisioning this. Had she prepared herself properly, it would be nothing to her. Now she was distracted. 

"I have wanted this... I mean... you... too long to stop now. I just hadn't expected... I mean I know you had... I just... I've never seen it up close before. That's all." 

There was a virtual Quidditch match going on Snape's head. His attention was like a Quaffle and it was being passed between lust, denial, rage, and now horror as the object of his desire stared upon the Dark Mark that linked him with his past. She had admitted she wanted him and no woman had ever looked at him this way. No single set of eyes had examined his naked body the way she had. She adored him. She wanted him. It was a singular moment of realization that Snape couldn't push aside. He was half naked with his pants undone and this beautiful Goddess was stuck on his Dark Mark. Damn! Snape would have never thought Voldemort could interfere with his sex life three years after his death. Maybe that was the real meaning of immortality. Snape had few doubts at this moment that Voldemort had achieved it. 

He wanted to say something to break the tension and to draw her back to the present. If he just continued undressing, she would probably be offended. If he undressed her, she might push him away. What if she was repulsed now? Say something Severus. Anything. 

"He is dead Hermione. He is gone." 

She nodded. Good, he hadn't said anything to make her cry. She looked up at him and smiled and continued to run her hands up his arms again. Hermione's fingers locked behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss. Immediately her tongue probed his mouth and her body clung to his. In an instant, all the horrid thoughts he had been contemplating disappeared and were lost in her taste again. She moaned slightly when his arms wrapped around her body. Fingers dived into his hair, wrapped around his ears, ran down his neck. The sensations were overwhelming. God, he even had his eyes closed. This was so real. 

Her arms quickly left his neck to run down his chest where she slipped underneath his arms and into his pants. She cradled his ass. With a deep groan he signaled his satisfaction to her and he felt her playful smile break their kiss slightly. She paid him back for his earlier ass squeezes with one of her own while she ground her hips into him. In an instant, Snape realized there was but a tiny piece of cloth separating his painful erection from the world. 

And so had Hermione. She moved away slightly and pulled his pants down. He had her face locked in a kiss so she couldn't look at her recent discovery. How did it feel to know that you were about to touch something so private that you hadn't seen before? He wondered, and he hoped he would find out later. But now he had to concentrate on not losing it all together. Her hands roamed around his hips, enjoying the definition of his bones and the trail of hair that led to his groin. 

Hermione was so close. Her hands had run up his hips several times now. Each time she descended she told herself this would be the time. Just touch it. It wont hurt. You want to. She told herself these things and many others. Then entered Doubt, like a beast from Hell. What if it's not what you're expecting? What if it's awful? What if he's not hard? Why does that bother me? So what if he's not hard, you still want him right? 

One of his hands left her waist. Oh no. But then it came up and cupped her left cheek in a romantic touch. Her mind milling continued. 

What if Snape doesn't want this? What if he's embarrassed? Her hands continued to roam all over his chest as her mind contemplated the inevitable moment she would have to plunge in to take what she wanted. His hand left her cheek, took her right hand and moved it down. She felt the corners of his mouth perk up into a slight smile as she shuddered under his touch. His fingers interlaced around the back of hers and they both grabbed his shaft at the same time. And then his hand left hers all alone to do the exploring he must have sensed she was too timid to begin on her own. 

He was hard and with great satisfaction Hermione noted he felt perfectly as she had imagined. She was just brushing the skin lightly and memorizing the outline of his... what should she call it? Oh god, what if they talked about it later? What was appropriate? Penis? That sounded too clinical. Dick? Was that too raunchy? Cock certainly had to be. She pushed the thought out of her mind. It. It was perfect in length with a very well defined head. The skin was so smooth and hot. It felt like fire beneath her fingers, and it was so hard she could feel it throbbing. How wide was he? Right. She wrapped her forefinger and her thumb around what felt like the widest point and then made a note to herself to remember later when she was alone to refer to that. 

And when she had grabbed It like that, Snape had gasped and severed their kiss. He was panting heavily now, his cheek resting against hers. She continued her gentle exploration, running a finger from the base to the tip, remarking on the area just beneath the head where It was extra fleshy and soft. Snape groaned exquisitely in her ear. 

And Hermione was free to look down now. And she did so. It was as red as it was hot and she let it rest gently in her palm as she looked on It for the first time with such ferocious curiosity. She began to pet the side laying against her palm softly, eliciting more moans from the lips next to her ears. She increased the speed of her petting, even daring herself to reach further down each time to feel the loose skin beneath that led to his balls. 

Snape's hands, which had been wrapped around her body loosened. His right hand went up to brace himself against the bookshelf behind her. His left went down to the hand resting against him. He clumsily grabbed her fingers and wrapped them around the shaft and then he instructed her silently to stroke him. 

Hermione's heart pounded wildly in her chest. Snape was beyond passion now. He wanted to feel her pleasing him and it was such an empowering feeling. Hermione watched in utter fascination as his hand gently curled around hers, moving it up and down gracefully with practiced movement. Hermione smiled to herself viciously. The thought of him doing this on his own nearly ruptured an inappropriate fit of giggles within her mind. 

He finally let go, but she continued the movements as he had shown her. His other hand settled around her shoulders and he continued to pant in her ear softly. She could see the muscles in his stomach tighten and his breathing becoming heavily labored. Her hand was tiring and she didn't know if she could keep this up much longer. As she slowed, the comforting arm left her shoulder again and he wrapped his hand around her wrist, encouraging her to continue. 

"Faster," he mumbled softly. She complied and only moments later her eyes beheld a beautiful spectacle as he released. The muscles in his stomach contracted several times and she heard him grunt softly in her ear. Tiny streams of pearly liquid had rained down on her hand and the floor. She smiled. She had done it and he was still panting in her ear, his arm now wrapped around her shoulder again, holding the nape of her neck with his hand. 

"I don't suppose that is how your fantasy went." Snape's statement was self-biting. 

Hermione pulled her head away so she could look into his eyes. His face was beyond relaxed. He looked like an angel. 

"No, it wasn't. In my fantasies you're never quite that big." 

Severus was floored.   
  
  
----   
  
A/N: I'm sort of ashamed that I wrote this. I don't really like this sort of thing. If you've read any of my other fanfiction you know that I avoid the intimate details. But I was intrigued by Snape's ability to be aloof, unaware and I think he would probably be completely overwhelmed by Hermione. That is what I was going for. =)   
  
http://ezziem.livejournal.com 


	3. Memories, Sweet and Sour

**

Part 3: Memories, Sweet and Sour  
by Ezzie 

**   
  
Warning: This is definitely R -> NC-17. It's not squicky. Just explicit. PLEASE make sure you are of a proper age before reading.   
  
Plot Warning: You will want to read "Just A Kiss" and "More Than A Kiss" first, for greater effect.   
  
  
  
  
Hermione dared glance into Snape's eyes as that now familiar look of astonishment grew on his face and then despite all her better judgment, she giggled. Oh Gods, she giggled and in absolute horror she raised her unsoiled hand to cover her mouth. Her amusement was ruining his post-climax bliss and it was apparent in the dark look on his face that had morphed out of the one of shock.   
  
- - -   
  
Was that a... giggle? Snape had to ask himself more than once. He felt his brow furrow with practiced ease much the way it did when young girls giggled in his classroom. She was looking positively horrified now and Snape realized he must have been wearing one of his infamous death stares. It wasn't intentional of course. After all she still had one hand wrapped around him and he was feeling anything but hatred towards her. For the first time since he had fully disrobed he looked down. Her thumb was moving very slowly along his shaft, and even after such an intense release he could feel it rousing a passion in him he hadn't felt in so long. 

  
  
After a few deep breaths and several seconds with his unclouded thoughts, Snape realized he was completely naked - save the trousers bunched up at his feet, his socks and his shoes. And she was, curiously enough, completely clothed. The irony was almost too much. He had overcompensated for the guilt he was feeling earlier and now he was naked, she was not and she was in total control. He sighed inwardly. 

  
  
"What is it you find so amusing?" he heard himself say in a rough voice. The smile on her face had already faded moments ago, but now she looked crushed. 

  
  
- - - 

  
  
Hermione knew the moment he had asked the question that he wasn't really angry, but the tone of his voice reminded her all too much of the days when he would openly ridicule her looks or her work in class. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and despite the bravery she had shown up to this point, she wanted nothing more now than to flee from him and forget any of this happened.   
  
Staring at Snape's bare chest in front of her, Hermione began making plans for her escape. For several silent moments she calculated every move: ducking under his arm that was still propped up against the bookshelf, grabbing her bag and then heading for the door. In the middle of envisioning herself slipping out, something jumped in her hand. With horror she realized she was still holding something of his - something that clearly wasn't finished with what she had started.   
  
Startled into reality, Hermione let go of his privates and executed her plan. Snape made no move to follow her. He had whipped his head around to watch her go and his face showed he was utterly confused as to what she was doing. Hermione tried to ignore it. With a final look back at his naked body she realized that his feet were bound together by his trousers and he had no immediate access to his wand. Snape was in no position to stop or follow her. She reached for the door handle and found herself thankful for the fact that he hadn't locked it. Was that intentional she wondered? The door slammed shut behind her, echoing her discomfort through the stone dungeon hall.   
  
Then Hermione ran. She ran through the dungeons, up the stairs, just barely dodging Peeves and nearly tripping over a flowerpot he had thrown into the hallway. Oh, Filch would be upset about that! But Hermione didn't want to think about Filch or the flowerpot or Peeves. She wanted to get out of her skin and be someone else.   
  
It wasn't obvious where her legs were carrying her. There were of course her quarters, but she had no desire to be there. Memories of him were there - well at least memories of her fantasizing about him were. What about the Library? The Great Hall? Gryffindor Tower? All of these reminded her of him in some way, especially Gryffindor Tower where she had spent her seventh year trying to rationalize the behavior he had just shown her. Maybe outside? It was just now turning dark and she could take a quick walk by the lake to clear her thoughts without being seen.   
  
Hermione pushed open the heavy wooden door that led from the Great Hall to the gardens and then sprinted down a gravel path towards the lake. It was quite bright outside despite the sun having set, and with a careful glance upward she noted it was nearly the full moon - the recognition of which made her think of Professor Lupin. What was he doing now? Was he at home, perhaps with Sirius and his new wife? Maybe Harry was there as well with Ginny, Ron and Lavender. Why couldn't she be there; far away from this humiliating experience? Why had she gone through with it? He had given her so many chances to escape without question and without requiring an explanation. Snape knew precisely what would happen: an awkward or embarrassing moment after the act took place. Why hadn't she seen that coming? Probably for the same reason she had never pictured the Dark Mark on his arm - she had idealized Snape beyond all comprehension. She had let her desires paint his personality in a light that just wasn't accurate.   
  
- - -   
  
She slammed the door - damned girl - no, woman! She would wake up the entire castle and that was the last thing they needed. Snape didn't want to face the Headmaster after what just happened. But why had she fled? What had he done wrong? He wasn't angry with her, quite the contrary. No, she couldn't have been afraid of his anger - he had actually made an effort to show her it wasn't there. She must have been afraid of something else, but what precisely could that have been? Maybe she was embarrassed or uncomfortable. After all, how often in her life would Hermione Granger find herself holding the genitals of her former Potions Master? Snape's subconscious answered the question for her: hopefully often.   
  
Snape looked down at himself with only half amusement when he realized that he was still hard. She had done a great job of rousing his sexual demons and they were in no way sated. He bent down, slid his underclothes up over himself and carefully put his pants back on. Without realizing it, he spent just a little more time than usual buttoning them up. His thumb occasionally brushed the soft fabric that separated the world from his hardness. A gentle moan erupted from his throat.   
  
Damn her. She had wanted this and she had made him want it too. Then she had left, but why? Snape dragged himself mentally back into the debate. She couldn't have been embarrassed! She wasn't forced to reveal that she was so sexually deprived that she came too soon - of course with women that was never a bad thing! She had been clothed. He hadn't touched her. And she couldn't have been embarrassed of seeing him naked - she said he was what she wanted.   
  
So what about this encounter had inspired her to flee without even a goodbye? Snape stared at the ceiling. He was still half naked.   
  
Pointless! It was pointless, he realized, to analyze her. The only thing he knew about Hermione Granger was that she had two incredibly annoying friends, she had an exhausting personality and that at some point she had made up with Draco Malfoy. That had been a miracle considering Malfoy's apparent hatred of Mudbl... No! Muggleborns! Snape had to mentally correct himself. The slur was not something he would ever say aloud, but after seven years in Slytherin and several more as a Death Eater, even the reformed Potions Master used it in his mind occasionally. It seemed so inappropriate to use it to describe her now. But Snape could remember when Malfoy had used it several times to taunt her; taunts that would inspire earth shattering battles between Slytherin and Gryffindor.   
  
In fact he recalled one such fight where Malfoy missed hitting Potter or Weasley or some other irritating child and had hit Granger. Her teeth had grown to a ridiculous size and he had made some passing joke about it. What had he said? Ah yes. 'I see no difference.' Snape chuckled to himself out loud and repeated the words.   
  
"I see no difference." His voice echoed through the room and chilled his blood.   
  
"What is it you find so amusing?" he then said. They were the last words he had said to her. That is when he realized he had sounded just like he did when he made the uncaring remark about her teeth. She had fled because she had flashbacks of his horrible treatment of her!   
  
Snape rushed to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a tattered piece of parchment. He unfolded it carefully and began searching for her in the labyrinth of lines that were drawn on the paper. After the Goblet of Fire incident, Dumbledore had let him keep the map. Grateful that the castle was empty, Snape looked all over for where she might be and then he spotted her. A small dot labeled 'Hermione Granger' was moving quickly through the garden by the Great Hall. He watched her begin to follow the path down to the lake. Without thinking twice, Snape summoned the rest of his clothes and dressed quickly.   
  
- - -   
  
Hermione came to a gripping halt when she saw the black-cloaked man standing at the end of the path. There was little doubt in her mind that it was Snape, but how the hell had he beat her out here? When she stopped running he walked towards her, stopping a few feet away, no doubt to put her at ease. He looked non-confrontational but Hermione wasn't really sure what his intentions were. Was he so sex crazed that he couldn't wait to see her again? Would he grab her, drag her into the forest and be done with it? What a ridiculous idea! Hermione pushed it out of her mind. No, perhaps she should apologize for running out. Maybe that's all he wanted - an explanation. Maybe he was emotionally hurt.   
  
"I'm so sorry..." she began in her most contrite voice. He never did let her finish.   
  
"It is I who should be apologizing. For a great many things I imagine."   
  
"You've no need to apologize for this evening. I thought I made it clear that it is what I wanted," Hermione replied. She began to shake slightly from the lukewarm breeze that was whipping through the trees nearby.   
  
"So you did," he said and then inserted an artful pause. "However, I seem to remember there are other transgressions in my past that you've not yet forgiven. Certain... remarks. I am sorry for having said them."   
  
Hermione looked up at the moon to hide her emotion. Did Severus Snape just apologize for all the nasty things he had ever done to her? Had he honestly remembered those comments - each of them? Somewhere, Hell had to be freezing over.   
  
"How did you get out here so quickly and how did you know I would be here," she blurted out. Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say in response to his apology. Saying 'I forgive you' seemed so melodramatic, not to mention the fact that he should be suffering more than he seemed to be. Yes, don't let him off so easy.   
  
"I'm sure you can figure out the answers to both of those questions. Do not avoid the subject," he said back to her with a gentle voice.   
  
"You have the map?" Hermione asked. What a stupid question, she realized. Of course he had the map - who else would? "Never mind and forget I asked. I don't really want to know." And then she decided he needed to do the talking. What else was there for her to say?   
  
Hermione chanced a glance in Snape's direction. He looked like a demon in this light. His pale skin reflected the rays of the moon; his deep-set eyes, crooked nose and black hair cast long shadows on his face. He was fully clothed again in his usual regalia and had added his cloak to the ensemble. She couldn't help feeling a sense of loss that all her hard work at removing those clothes had gone unrewarded. Her mind began to roam.   
  
What was it she saw in him? He looked like the villain monster in some Muggle film she couldn't remember the name of. Had she known him from school, Snape wouldn't have had a chance with her. He was nothing like the boys she usually dated. But then again, none of them inspired panty-drenching dreams.   
  
"That is why you left isn't it?" His voice pulled her out of contemplation.   
  
"Yes. I suppose it is." It was a truthful answer. Hermione sighed to herself. In reality she wasn't upset, merely shocked at the tone of his voice. It was a reality check for her, and the reality scared her. "I owe you an apology also, for acting childishly after... well... you know."   
  
"Yes well I assure you it hasn't adversely... affected... me in anyway."   
  
'Affected'? Did she just hear that right? Was he alluding to what she thought he was? The tiny muscles between her legs contracted without her consent and it sent shivers up her spine.   
  
"You're cold. This is ridiculous. We should go back inside." Oh god, he had no idea that those few words had 'affected' her so greatly.   
  
Hermione nodded and turned to go.   
  
'No. It's much faster this way. Come here," Snape said, holding out a hand to her. Hermione didn't know quite what to think of this gesture. Were they going for a stroll in the forest? Reluctantly, she took his hand.   
  
- - -   
  
She had shivered when he dropped the subtle hint. He knew she would never say anything like 'I forgive you' so the next best thing was to let her know he still wanted to explore her fantasies. Her response had been perfect. Snape had never been so excited to see a young Gryffindor tremble at the sound of his words and although it was trembling of a different kind, it was no less satisfying.   
  
He held her hand and for a brief moment took in the sight of her in this light. The dusty brown hair, clear pale skin and deep brown eyes. Her hand was so soft against his except for a few slight abnormalities that he attributed to the remnants of their previous encounter. The muscles in his face fought to prevent a very prideful smile from forming. He wrapped her other hand around his waist, covered her in his cloak and then Apparated back to his quarters.   
  
Snape looked down to find her hugging him and a look of shock on her face.   
  
"How did you... you can't!" Hermione protested.   
  
"I beg to differ. It seems that even the finest of Hogwarts minds have yet to realize you can Apparate within the grounds. How do you think the House Elves do it?"   
  
"I guess I just... Well I..."   
  
Gods, she was so beautiful when she stammered. Snape wasn't even listening to her excuses. He was recalling an incident months ago at dinner when Sinistra had asked her about some insolent boy she was dating. Hermione had similarly stumbled over the words and nervously glanced in his direction. All the while she went explaining how it was nothing, that the boy had wanted something more serious but she wanted someone older. Someone mature. Someone seasoned. He had chalked the conversation up to meddlesome gossip - a phenomenon common between the female staff. Oh what an idiot he was. How could he have missed all the tell tale signs of an enamored woman?   
  
He put his thumb to her lips to stop her incessant explanations - a much better alternative to the harsh words that floated through is mind. Hermione looked up into his eyes and he thought his heart might stop beating.   
  
"Hermione. I meant it when I said I was sorry for the things I've said in the past."   
  
"Even the one about my teeth?" She replied playfully while taking the hand near her face into hers.   
  
Her voice sounded so sensuous and it made the semi-erect creature in his pants jump to full life again. She was standing just close enough to feel it and a guilty smile grew on her face. The next thing he knew she was rubbing him again, through his pants. Snape's head spun and he was forced to close his eyes and look towards the ceiling to keep composed. Did she have any idea what this did to him? And that he wanted nothing more than to just rip off his clothes and release? It didn't even matter if she participated; the fire inside of him was so great now that he felt he might burst. He heard himself moan and just seconds later felt her undoing his pants again.   
  
This time, when she pulled his pants down, she took hold of him right away and began her massage. If she kept this up, this encounter would be short lived like the last one. Surely she had greater ambitions than this? Snape grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, opting instead to bring her palms to his face to plant kisses there.   
  
"I don't believe in repeat performances of that kind," he whispered.   
  
- - -   
  
Didn't he know all she wanted to do was explore every inch of his body? If that meant seeing him release over and over again without him touching her, that would be ok. Now he was denying her that dream. But his lips against her palms felt heavenly. The wet supple skin brushed against her lifelines his tongue traced along them. Moments later she realized she was panting; and from what? Little kisses on a completely innocent place? Well maybe it wasn't so innocent. Nothing innocent could elicit this response from her body.   
  
He pulled her hands apart and placed them around his neck. His lips descended upon hers and once again Hermione seemed lost in the feel of his pointed tongue in her mouth. His taste and his scent aroused her to indescribable heights. She could smell him when she breathed in through her nose and taste him when he exhaled slightly through his mouth.   
  
Snape moved one hand down her back, lifted up her robe and began to pull the soft cotton shirt out of her pants. Hermione was reminded of the white shirt he was wearing - the one she would have for her own. A subconscious thought process began working on the plot to acquire it.   
  
When Snape reached bare skin, he ran his hand up her shirt. His hand was so large it nearly covered the entirety of her back. The mere touch of his hand to her back was like electricity shooting through her and unfamiliar warmth filled her mind and body.   
  
Hermione was so enraptured by this kiss and his touch that she didn't notice he was undoing her pants and her robe. His unoccupied hand then pushed her robe off of her shoulders, and her hands came down to let it fall to the floor. Then Snape's hand descended from her back, into her pants. If he meant to get down there, she would need to undo some buttons. He broke the kiss momentarily as she reached down. Crap! They were already undone! How did he do that?   
  
The amused expression on his face said all. He had used a spell, but before she could ask which one he had resumed probing her mouth.   
  
- - -   
  
Snape didn't really want to continue their previous game of cat and mouse psychological sex warfare, but he could easily see how effective the art of surprise was. She clearly hadn't considered using magic to undress him, so when she was becoming more naked by the second without realizing it, she was startled. The look on her face was precious and Snape found it erotic.   
  
He reached all the way down Hermione's pants and underneath her panties. The skin of her ass was soft and hard at the same time. He cupped her right cheek with his right hand. It fit so perfectly. She squirmed against him as he adjusted his grip and the tips of his fingers came dangerously close to her arousal points. Snape slightly winced in pain as the open flaps of her pants dug into the erection now trapped between them.   
  
He didn't want to move. He wanted to stay in this position forever. There was no greater pleasure than the feel of a woman that wanted him under his touch. It was an even greater feeling than brewing difficult potions, belittling the children of his enemies, or defeating Voldemort. He took a deep breath and could smell her through his mouth. The warm air drifted from her oral cavity slipped into his throat and up into his nostrils. If there was a heaven then he hoped it smelled like her.   
  
Her. An hour ago he hated her. An hour ago he would have never dreamed of pursuing this. How had his emotions changed so greatly? Was this merely the buildup of hormones in an old man desiring greatly for comfort, closeness, and an erotic adventure? Afterwards what would happen? What would she want to pursue then? Had her fantasies included anything beyond sex? And if they did would he want to be a part of them?   
  
She was moving again. Her arms had come undone from around his neck and were now pushing her pants and underwear off. With amazing ease she kicked off her shoes and soon was standing naked from the waist down. She held him in a kiss so that he couldn't look down at her. There was no way for him to take in her beauty with his eyes. Did she really want him to touch her? The doubtful thoughts entered his mind again. How could a man be so conflicted about this? All he knew was that he couldn't move. Snape had managed to put his other hand on her back, but they seemed to be glued there.   
  
- - -   
  
He had surprised her by undoing her pants and her robe without her knowing it. It was obvious he wanted her naked, but now that she was standing there without her pants on, he was just holding her. His hands hadn't moved. He'd made no move to pull away from the kiss to look at her. Maybe he was teasing her. Hermione knew just what to do about that. She broke the kiss suddenly and pulled away so that his hands had to release her. He stood there looking puzzled, his pants open and his beautiful organ exposed.   
  
Hermione lifted the cotton shirt she was wearing up over her head and then took her bra off. For the first few moments she was afraid to look at Snape. What if he found the sight of her repulsive? What if she wasn't what he was expecting? When she looked up into his face, Hermione thought she might faint. His eyes were wide open and the expression on his face was like that of a child. She had never seen him so relaxed. But still he didn't move. He simply looked her up and down. And then she heard him moan. It wasn't an intentional moan, she knew that much. It was an accident of sorts. Snape blushed and then ran a hand through his greasy looking hair.   
  
Hermione had to stifle another giggle that surely would have ruined the moment. Instead she allowed herself to smile reassuringly at the man in front of her. He was no longer Snape the greasy git Professor, Snape the Death Eater, or Snape the nemesis of Harry Potter. He was Severus, the object of her desires. And he was no longer the idealized version of Severus Snape. He was just a man.   
  
When Hermione took hold of his hands, he was trembling. She attributed it to a rush of male hormones and over excitement. She would never guess that he was actually nervous. His hands rested, at her command, on her hips and their kissing resumed. But even the kiss had changed. It no longer portrayed a sex-crazed man. It was the kiss of a man who wanted to enjoy every moment of what was about to happen. It was slow, sensual and caring. It made some part of Hermione's brain ponder what would happen after they were finished.   
  
Snape's fingers were calloused and rough. This was another thing Hermione had never envisioned about him. Surely she had pondered the long tapered fingers many times before, but never once had she considered their texture or how they might actually feel against her. He moved slowly, his older hands gently dragging up her sides towards her neck and eventually down to her ass. Hermione gathered he must really like that part of her body. The rough feel of his clothes was heaven against her stomach and breasts. This much she had imagined - being pressed against the heavy black cloth. Snape's cloak just barely covered her nakedness as he reached around her body. Hermione tried to visualize what they looked like together and found the resulting thoughts to be extremely arousing; she tried to get closer by lifting one foot and wrapping it around his leg.   
  
Snape responded by lifting Hermione in the air and wrapping her legs around his waist. He did it with such ease that she couldn't help but wonder if he was using a spell of some kind. It hardly mattered. She now felt the fabric of his cloak against the outsides of her legs and the rough feel of his robes on the insides. He broke the kiss and left a trail of saliva down the path her trachea made and into the small alcove formed by her collarbones. From this position she could smell his hair, which did not come off as greasy at all. It was more like a mix of cedar and sweat. Surprisingly arousing at the moment in fact.   
  
Hermione felt she knew what was coming next. Snape seemed to lift her in the air just a tad bit more so he could begin kissing below her neck. One of her hands found itself tangled in a mess of black hair, as if to control the movements of his head when it was necessary to do so. The two hands that were cradled underneath her began climbing upwards and she knew at that moment that Snape was levitating her with a spell. God, why hadn't she thought of that? Snape's hands then found their way up her sides, caressed her belly and then cupped underneath her breasts. He leaned back a bit to look at them up close and then his lips descended upon her left nipple. Hermione threw her head back when the soft, wet lips met her skin. And then...   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_KNOCK KNOCK_   
  
They both froze. Hermione felt Snape's lips moving and a small gust of breath ran across her nipple. She was too terrified to really understand what he was doing. Her first thoughts were to get dressed quickly, somehow, before that door opened. Was it still unlocked? He had Apparated out of here before and probably hadn't thought to lock the door. Hermione panicked and squirmed beneath him, but she couldn't move. She wanted to shout 'let me down' but that would only alert whoever was on the other side of the door. Snape wrapped both arms around her and lowered her body enough to whisper in her ear.   
  
"SSH. And don't move," he said.   
  
He then made sure every part of her body was covered with his cloak - a move that Hermione would only appreciate later when she relived the moments they had together.   
  
"Snape!" followed by _KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK _"I know you're in there!"   
  
Hermione's body tensed up as she heard the doorknob turn. She could feel one of Snape's thumbs caressing her back reassuringly. In walked Sirius Black.   
  
----   
  
A/N: My muse visited me today, but she was kind of shakey though. She must have a cold - I know I do. I apologize for grammatical mistakes. I didn't have it beta-read. I couldn't bring myself to ask someone to look over something so... smutty. :( But I kind of like what Hermione and Snape are up to mentally, so I wrote it down. Enjoy. Feel free to point criticism in my direction. There will be one more installment. I promise the ending will be fullfilling.   
  
http://ezziem.livejournal.com 


	4. Love Interupted

**

Love Interupted  
by Ezzie 

**   
  
Warning: This is definitely R -> NC-17. It's not squicky. Just explicit. This final installment has a very intimate scene between Severus and Hermione. If you are at all offended by such an idea, then please do not read this tory.   
  
Plot Warning: You will want to read the first three installments, for greater effect.   
  
  
  
  
  
Snape had known it was Sirius Black the moment he heard the man shout 'Snape!' It had taken only moments for him to lose his erection and shortly afterwards his hormones had leveled out. In a state of angered, but habitual, cautiousness he had whispered the words to the invisibility spell and ensured Hermione was completely covered with his cloak. He knew he would have no time to explain his actions to her and hoped she was as smart and intuitive when pressed against his body as she was in her normal life. The last thing he wanted to do at this moment was duel with Sirius Black over this matter, although some part of his subconscious told him he might have to anyway someday.   
  
When Sirius Black opened the door, Snape glanced down at the creature wrapped up in his arms. She had taken a moment to identify the intruder and then hid her face in his cloak. A moment of pain shot through him at the realization she was embarrassed to be here with him. No matter what her intentions were, it was clear she didn't want them shared with the rest of the world. In some way that answered many things for Snape - she definitely wouldn't want a relationship outside of this room. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.   
  
"Snape, I know you're in here!" Sirius shouted as he strode in the room and looked around. Hermione lifted her head and Snape saw the look of realization cross her face.   
  
- - -   
  
He can't see us, she thought to herself. Hermione looked up at Snape as he watched Sirius walk around his sitting room. She still had both legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were tightly clinging to his body. It was as if she was hanging onto him for dear life. In reality, Hermione knew the levitation spell allowed her to hang deftly in the air without any effort. Snape's body was a mere prop for her to cling to.   
  
"Damn it Snape, we don't have much time!" Sirius shouted.   
  
Hermione was filled with joy at the fact that Sirius couldn't see her and she couldn't help but enjoy Snape's reaction to seeing Harry's godfather. He looked angry and worried and Hermione couldn't help but hope it was because he wanted to protect her. More importantly, protect her honor, her modesty and her relationship with her friends. But somehow, even with her idealized vision of Severus Snape, she couldn't imagine that.   
  
Neither of them dared move now as Sirius came closer. The thumb that had been caressing Hermione's back had ceased for fear it would cause the fabric of the cloak to make a sound. The rising of Snape's chest had also stopped. She assumed he wasn't breathing at all. When Sirius was completely inside Snape's bedroom, Hermione looked up and caught Snape's eye. For a moment she was able to peer into the calm but cautious soul whose company she had been craving for many years. She wanted to read what he was thinking at that moment. Was he afraid of Sirius finding them together? He had issued the invisibility spell so quickly. It was clear he didn't want anyone knowing about them being here together. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about that.   
  
Soon Sirius was walking back into Snape's sitting room and started inspecting various objects. He seemed to be looking for something in particular on Snape's desk, bookshelves and tables. Hermione saw the hatred grow on his face as Sirius intruded upon their privacy. But at this moment there was nothing Snape could do despite any tendencies he might be having. Hermione could just imagine the curses he was thinking up and the cold words he would use to insult Sirius later.   
  
And then Sirius stopped moving completely and just stared at the ground. Hermione followed his eyes to several objects lying on the floor - her clothes and her satchel lying nearby.   
  
"Hermione?" Sirius said in a small voice that displayed his disbelief. He must have recognized her satchel. Sirius reached over and picked it up.   
  
"Snape what have you done?" he whispered as he looked at her clothes. He then turned and ran out the door.   
  
When Snape was sure Sirius Black was far away, Hermione felt one of his hands clutch onto her more tightly as he walked towards the door, closed and locked it.   
  
"What is he doing here?" Hermione heard herself ask in a whispered voice. It was a rhetorical question, really, and she hadn't expected an explanation.   
  
"It is nearly the full moon. He and Lupin will have come for the Wolfsbane Potion," Snape replied in a husky voice that did nothing to hide his annoyed demeanor.   
  
- - -   
  
Snape wasn't sure what it was - the presence of Sirius Black - or just the presence of anyone except Hermione in his quarters, but the encounter had shaken him out of his lustful reverie. He stood there with the creature in his arms and it was while he looked down at her that he realized the insanity of his situation. For what seemed like hours she just met his gaze with one of her own. The deep brown eyes that he had considered lustful and sexy just minutes ago, now held no magic for him.   
  
"I see," Hermione replied. "You should see to it then. I'm sure Sirius will come back here soon and it would be best if we were not here together."   
  
Snape felt himself nod back at her as he eased the levitation spell and set the Hermione back on her feet. The cloak that had surrounded her now fell back to cling against his body and she stood in the candlelight, naked, and unembarrassed. She then turned to fetch her clothes from the floor.   
  
"No doubt he has found Lupin by now and the both of them will be rushing back to save the day," he replied. He couldn't disguise the rush of confusion that swept over him. Confusion over his sudden loss of interest in Hermione and at the same time he couldn't help the hormones that were threatening to peek in his blood again with the sight of her naked body.   
  
Hermione hooked her bra in the back and then slipped the tee shirt back over her shapely form.   
  
"Remus already knows of my feel..." Hermione's voice dropped off and her head dipped while she pretended to pay attention to dressing.   
  
"I mean to say that he knows of my disposition towards..." But again she was unable to finish the sentence. "That is. If Remus were to find us together he would not be surprised."   
  
Snape couldn't help but notice the rush of blood to her cheeks, and he could feel his own flooding his brain. He nearly collapsed. She had told people she wanted this... him.   
  
Hermione slipped on her panties quickly. He had to go now or he might never have the mental strength to open the door and walk into the cold dark dungeons to face the consequences - Sirius's wrath and Remus's foreknowledge.   
  
"Severus?" He heard from behind him as his hand reached for the doorknob. The utterance of his name from those sweet lips stopped him in his tracks and some unknown force turned him completely around. She took ten steps towards him - he counted them in his mind - one, two, three... and when she was finally in front of him he went into shock as her tiny hands tucked his genitals inside his pants, buttoned them and carefully arranged the front of his robes. Both hands then reached up and straightened the stiff black collar that hugged his neck and then smoothed his cloak. Hermione took such care with these ministrations that he was lost in her movements and only half registered what she was doing. With a final smile she backed away and continued to dress.   
  
Now he was unable to move and it was only when she had slid her robes back on did he realize he was staring.   
  
"You don't have to wait for me. I know my way back," Hermione offered casually.   
  
He wanted to say something, anything, to let her know just how confused he was. He simply didn't want to leave now, despite any reservations he had. It didn't matter that she knew the way back, it didn't matter that in a short period of time Remus Lupin would be destined to spend an evening as a full blown werewolf if he didn't have the potion, it hardly mattered that the world existed. Snape simply wanted to understand what was going on in his mind.   
  
- - -   
  
In the few moments after Snape left, Hermione began to understand where she stood with him. Sirius's presence had revived in him some sort of awareness as to the role he truly played in her life. He was the adult and the professor, not the erotic partner he had become for the past few hours. She assumed that this would be the last intimate moment they would have together. There would be no future kisses in the library, touching talks by the lake and naked romps in his bedroom. Which, Hermione noted with unusual bitterness, she hadn't seen yet.   
  
Desperation coupled with a sick level of curiosity forced her legs to take her to Snape's bedroom. It was desolate and quite the opposite of how she imagined it might be. In the center of the room there was a large four-poster bed setup like the one she had slept in for her seven years at Hogwarts. The difference was there were no luxurious velvet curtains hanging from the rails, there were no warm blankets, and the pillows looked lumpy and hard. No wonder Snape looked as though he never slept.   
  
Beside the bed there was a small table on which he had piled several books. After mentally warning herself against touching anything, Hermione walked across the room to examine the titles of the books. Two of them were Ministrations of a Ghoul and Satire of the Warlocks. Hermione recognized them immediately as books covering modern wizarding politics.   
  
The only other furniture in Snape's bedroom was a large wardrobe. After deciding it was best not to invade so deeply into his personal life, Hermione turned from the bedroom and made her way towards his front door. As she reached for the doorknob, a loud knock echoed through his sitting room. Hermione froze. Who could it be? More importantly, had Snape locked the door and would the person dare enter? As soon as the thought entered her mind, the doorknob turned and the heavy wood attached to it swung open. Hermione raised her eyes quickly and saw Albus Dumbledore standing before her.   
  
- - -   
  
As fast as he could, Snape made his way towards his office, where he imagined Lupin would be ferreting around looking for the potion. Never once had Snape failed to deliver it as promised and the werewolf would no doubt wonder if he had hidden it somewhere to keep safe. Visions of a frantic, semi-hairy man destroying his lab entered his mind and he sped his walking pace up a bit. He reached his office out of breath and pulled his wand out ready to immobilize the half-man half-beast. However, when he got there he simply found a very smug Lupin sitting boyishly on top of a lab table.   
  
"Good evening Severus," Lupin said with an impish smile. What on earth, Snape wondered, was he smiling about?   
  
"Lupin," Snape spoke as he nodded his head in acknowledgement of the other man's presence. "I left the potion in the lab. I will fetch it." Snape then turned hastily attempting to retreat.   
  
"No need. I found it already. Thank you."   
  
"Fine. Then I will ask you to leave so that I may continue on with my work this evening," Snape snapped back in as calm a voice as he could muster.   
  
SLAM   
  
Snape turned quickly around to see that Sirius Black had just slammed the door of his office closed and was now moving in closely to corner him.   
  
"Where is she?" Sirius snarled.   
  
"Where is who?"   
  
"You know precisely who I am referring to. What did you do to her?"   
  
"I assure you I have not _done_ anything to anyone. Now remove yourself from my office and this castle before I'm forced to do so myself."   
  
"I was in your rooms, Snape. I saw her clothes and her satchel on your floor. Did you drug her? So desperate that you must force yourself upon helpless young women?" Sirius spat as he moved in towards Snape.   
  
Snape was halfway in between taunting Sirius in some fashion and just hexing him straight out. He felt no need to explain his actions to anyone, yet at the same time it occurred to him it might feel comforting to gloat about this. It would be no surprise to Lupin, of course. He already knew of Hermione's feelings. No. Intentions. Snape quickly reminded himself that Hermione had no feelings towards him.   
  
"I wasn't aware you were in the habit of breaking the law, Black. I seem to remember a long diatribe or two about how you are always innocent and would never do anything like illegally enter someone else's private rooms," he decided to throw back at Sirius.   
  
"Don't change the subject Snape. You know perfectly well why I went looking for you in your rooms. It was for Remus," Black retorted as he pointed towards Lupin. Snape looked back at the werewolf to find he had a large smile on his face and was attempting not to break out into laughter.   
  
"You find this funny?" Snape asked him.   
  
Lupin held up his hands in acquiescence and shook his head insistently.   
  
"Wait, why are you laughing? Did I miss something?" Black asked quickly as he turned towards his friend.   
  
"Me? No reason," Remus replied innocently.   
  
"I'll have you know, Snape, that I have alerted the headmaster. He will be coming by to see about this," Sirius said as he focused back on the situation.   
  
And right on cue, there was a knock at the door followed by a loud creaking sound as it opened. In walked Albus Dumbledore and Hermione.   
  
- - -   
  
Albus Dumbledore was the last person in the castle that Hermione had expected to show up at Snape's door. He had a most concerned expression on his old face; one that Hermione could recognize quite clearly despite the massive amounts of white hair that framed his face.   
  
"Ms. Granger. I am quite relieved to have found you."   
  
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, I was just... I was... um. Well Professor Snape and I were..." Hermione attempted to say. Dumbledore simply held up a hand to stop her.   
  
"There is no need to explain Ms. Granger. I am only happy to find you alive and unharmed, for I have had reports to the contrary. May I come in?"   
  
"Oh. Of course. I mean. I guess. Would he mind? Professor Snape I mean?"   
  
"I don't imagine he would mind much, no."   
  
Dumbledore walked into Snape's rooms and closed the door behind him. He took a moment to look around as if he had never been there before.   
  
"I see Severus has picked up a new copy of Trailing the Tiger. That always was a favorite if I remember correctly," he said as he ran a hand over the new leather bound book sitting on Snape's desk. Hermione hadn't even noticed it when she came in. He then shot her a small smile.   
  
She couldn't breathe. The thought of Dumbledore imagining her and Snape entangled was embarrassing. What on earth could she say to him now? Dumbledore was still smiling at her, almost as if he were reading her mind.   
  
"I was alerted by Sirius that Severus had done some sort of harm to you and that I should seek you out immediately to determine if you were alright. I must assume that you are fine and free to leave of your own will?" Dumbledore asked.   
  
"Yes, Headmaster, I am quite alright."   
  
"I see. And what precisely did he think that Severus had done?"   
  
Oh god, Hermione thought in a moment of panic. How could she possibly explain this to Dumbledore? Surely Sirius had said something to indicate what he had done. She couldn't say that he had suspected Snape of undressing her. Her embarrassment was turning quickly into mortification. Perhaps if she only alluded to what might have happening.   
  
"Oh. I uh... I presume he must have thought Professor Snape poisoned me. Well drugged might be a more appropriate description."   
  
"Ah," Dumbledore said as a look of true realization crossed his face. "I presume then that is not what happened here?"   
  
"No sir, not at all."   
  
"Very well then, I suggest we go find Sirius and demonstrate that you are quite unharmed. When I left him he seemed intent on defending your honor." Dumbledore then smiled at her and wrapped a fatherly arm around her to coax her out of Snape's rooms. They walked towards the dungeons swiftly as Dumbledore made small talk about his days as an alchemist.   
  
Normally, Hermione could think of a hundred questions to ask on the topic, but right now all she could think of was the humiliation of having to discuss this with Sirius. When Dumbledore paused outside of Snape's office to knock on the door, Hermione thought she might faint.   
  
"Ah Sirius. We were just looking for you," Dumbledore said as he pushed Hermione gently inside Snape's office and closed the door behind them.   
  
"Hermione! Are you all right? Tell me what happened," Sirius said as he rushed forward and noticeably began inspecting her for signs of torture.   
  
"Sirius, I am fine. Nothing happened."   
  
"Hermione. I was there. I know something happened. What did he give you? A forgetfulness potion? Did he use the Imperius curse?"   
  
"There is nothing to worry about Sirius, I am fine."   
  
"Then why were your clothes on the floor of his sitting room?" Sirius asked, baffled.   
  
Hermione felt her body flinch and the muscles in her face scrunch up as he asked the question. It was clear that Sirius had been discreet with Dumbledore before, but now everything was out in the open. She peered around the room to find the headmaster staring at her intently, Sirius on edge, Snape looking slightly horrified and Lupin on the brink of laughter. And in reality she had no answer for Sirius. She wasn't about to explain this to him. It was her life.   
  
"Sirius, no offense, but it really is none of your business. I am quite alright and you need not worry," Hermione stated calmly in an attempt to comfort Sirius. What she received in return was a grateful look from Snape.   
  
"Professor, he has done something to her," Sirius pleaded.   
  
"I have spoken with Ms. Granger and all seems well. She assures me she has not been drugged or poisoned. Now come along Sirius. I was hoping you could give me news of how Harry is doing," Dumbledore said as he ushered Sirius towards the door. "Remus?"   
  
"I'll be along in a moment. I just need to ask Severus about something." Dumbledore nodded and left with Sirius.   
  
"I apologize for that," Lupin stated in the most contrite voice he could muster. "I couldn't hold him here long enough to take the potion and he would have never forgiven me for hexing him."   
  
"Thanks Remus," Hermione replied, giving him a small smile. Lupin hopped down from the lab table, gave her a small kiss on the cheek and walked towards the door.   
  
"See you next month, Severus," he added as he gave the dark professor a meaningful look. He closed the door behind him as he left.   
  
---   
  
When Hermione turned around, Snape had retreated to the fireplace and was staring at the smoldering ashes of what must have been a roaring fire. There were no words waiting to pour from her mouth. It was clear to her that this was to be the uncomfortable 'after sex' talk despite the fact they hadn't fully gone through with it. What pained her more than anything was that she had nothing to say. She knew that the years of obsessive behavior that speckled her past wasn't something she should bring up now. To burst out and proclaim her love of him would be immature, presumptuous and embarrassing. On the other hand, the silence was killing her.   
  
"I hate it when there is so much to say, and yet no way to begin." The words shot out of her mouth and she immediately regretted the way they sounded in her voice. Her mind went numb and began contemplating the hundreds of ways she could attempt to take them back.   
  
Snape responded with merely a grunt and he didn't turn around to look at her. A rush of stupidity came over Hermione; if there were a way to restart this conversation, she would have. Perhaps if she knew what he was thinking at this moment? Perhaps he was embarrassed or ashamed now that other people had an idea of what went on. Hermione was certain he was imagining how he could Obliviate Remus, Sirius and the headmaster. She wanted desperately to talk him out of something like that and to make it clear that if he were uncomfortable with the situation that she would not pursue him any further. Just when she was about to bring it up, he finally spoke.   
  
"Why did you tell Lupin?" he asked softly without turning to face her.   
  
"I didn't. Harry did."   
  
These words jolted Snape and he quickly spun around to glare at her.   
  
"You told Potter?" He spoke the words disbelievingly.   
  
"Yes. Well sort of. He figured it out on his own."   
  
Hermione watched as the fury grew on Snape's face. She had never seen him quite so enraged before, not even in the Shrieking Shack so many years before. Hermione was more than familiar with Snape's dislike of Harry, although none of them knew why really. After all, Snape and Harry had fought side by side together in the struggle against Voldemort.   
  
"I am curious why that bothers you," she dared to ask.   
  
"I have my reasons," he snarled as he turned back towards the fire and relit it.   
  
"Well I am sorry," she said after he had settled into a large chair in front of the fire. "I never intended for anyone to know, including you."   
  
Hermione saw Snape freeze at these words. The look of shock had passed over him once again.   
  
"Sit," he said softly as he gestured towards the chair across from him. Hermione did so as gracefully as she could. Her heart was pounding in her chest quickly at the prospect of sharing another intimate moment with him. Only this time she envisioned the intimacy happening in conversation and not in lust.   
  
"You really want to know about Potter?"   
  
"Yes," she said calmly while nodding her head.   
  
"If you repeat this to anyone, you and I will never speak again. Do you understand?"   
  
Hermione nodded in confusion.   
  
"There was a time when the Snape family was the most affluent in all of England," he began calmly. There was a look of sadness in his eyes that Hermione hadn't seen since his friend's memorial service.   
  
"We put even the Malfoy's to shame in terms of our wealth. Many years before Voldemort came to power, my Father worked in the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable. He was easily one of the most brilliant wizards of his time, certainly in the area of Dark Arts. James Potter - Harry's Grandfather - worked in the same department. When Voldemort began gathering supporters and conducting raids on Muggles, the Ministry went into an uproar. They began suspecting everyone, especially if they had any sort of Dark Arts background and had an insight into Ministry affairs. To make a long story short, Potter accused my father of orchestrating the attacks - this was before anyone knew the name Voldemort. My father was stripped of his position, thrown in Azkaban and all of our familial assets were seized. This was when I was still quite young." Snape paused to take a deep breath.   
  
"As a result, my mother was forced to move us to a shack the size of Hagrid's hut, and that is where I grew up. I was practically an orphan as she was forced to work constantly to feed us. My father died in Azkaban a year later. In short, Potter ruined my life."   
  
Hermione sat staring at Snape as he finished the story. She could feel the sadness and anger radiating off of him. His eyes were directed at the fire and his body was still except for his fingers that clutched at the chair he was sitting in.   
  
"I'm quite sure Harry has no idea any of that happened," she said finally, attempting to reassure him.   
  
"I have no need for his sympathies," Snape looked up at her and Hermione felt her heart jump. "Or yours."   
  
"Well you're getting it anyway. Involuntarily" she retorted instantly and was rewarded with a small flicker of gratification in his face.   
  
They sat for several more minutes as Hermione contemplated what all this meant. For all those years, Harry had run about the castle attempting to save the day much in the way his Grandfather had. The consequences of his Grandfather's Potteresque and well-intended heroic action had produced the cold and callous man that sat in front of her. Somehow, all of Snape's hatred towards Harry Potter seemed real, accounted for, and almost justified. Hermione felt an overwhelming desire to comfort Snape, to take him in her arms and just hold him. She was quite sure he wouldn't be compliant, however.   
  
"Do you want me to go?" she asked finally. He lifted his head and looked at her curiously.   
  
"I want to know what prompted you to behave the way you did this evening."   
  
The request threw her off guard and Hermione found herself unable to speak for several moments.   
  
"I don't know that I could even say. It's something that has been... well... haunting me for quite some time now. Thoughts of you, that is."   
  
"How long is 'quite some time?'" he asked.   
  
"A few years," she replied. The infamous look of shock crossed his face again. Hermione smiled slightly.   
  
"While you were still a student here?"   
  
"Yes," came the reluctant reply. Hermione could feel her cheeks flushing and the horror of having to confess that she had dreamed of a relationship with her teacher overwhelmed her sensibilities. It was wrong, even in the Wizarding world where age had different a different meaning. She was convinced he thought horrible of her for it.   
  
Snape took a deep breath and looked back at the fire.   
  
"I saw your face as Black walked into the room. You were embarrassed to be there."   
  
"I was embarrassed to be... um... naked in front of Sirius, sure. I wasn't embarrassed to be there with you, if that's what you're thinking."   
  
He gave her a searching look. Hermione felt as though he was pressing her for more information. Suddenly, the sound of bat screeching erupted in the room and Snape rose quickly as a result. Hermione followed his form as it made its way across the room and flipped over a large hourglass. When he did so, the sound stopped.   
  
The office was quiet as Hermione watched Snape's casual, yet graceful, movements. He picked up a ladle from the workbench and dipped it into the cauldron. Those deep black eyes glanced once at a book sitting to the left of the cauldron and then quickly in her direction, almost as if to see if she was paying attention.   
  
- - -   
  
Snape stirred the bubbling red potion in front of him, making designs in it that weren't necessary. He simply wanted to end the previous conversation. It was clear Hermione was uncomfortable and so was he. What he couldn't tell, however, was whether she was being truthful. Was she really not embarrassed to be there with him? He wasn't sure he could believe her answer.   
  
He glanced down at the potions book to his left. Stir in 6 ounces of armadillo bile. He then looked up to where Hermione was sitting and saw her staring intently at him, as she had so many times before. With one graceful movement he reached for the vial of armadillo bile.   
  
"What are you studying in school?" he asked curtly. Academic discussions always were a good conversation detractor.   
  
"Transfiguration," came her reply. With a dreaded sense of foreboding Snape noted that she had chosen his worst subject in school. She rose from the chair and began walking towards him. Snape nearly dropped the vial of bile into the cauldron as thoughts of her naked body under those robes and the taste of her skin beneath his lips entered his mind.   
  
"Transfiguration," he repeated. It was half question, half statement and he was sure the inflection in his voice was showing his disapproval. "I would have thought that with your extracurricular brewing activities at Hogwarts, that you would have considered Potions instead."   
  
His words raised in her the reaction Snape desired. She blushed furiously and fiddled with an empty vial sitting on his desk. He poured the armadillo bile into the cauldron and began stirring.   
  
"I wasn't aware you knew about that," she spoke demurely in a way that began to bring his mind back to wanting her.   
  
"It seems that you never considered the fact that I might place tracing charms on some of the more dangerous items in my collection," he said in a soothing voice.   
  
"No. I suppose we didn't. I am sorry about that." She sounded contrite, Snape noted to himself.   
  
"No matter. You received a better punishment than I would have been able to give you."   
  
She smiled at these words and Snape felt his heart jump into his throat.   
  
"I considered Potions," she said spontaneously after a few minutes. "But it would have required a letter of recommendation from my Potions Master and I didn't... well... I assumed you wouldn't have written one for me." Snape knew she was searching for a complement, or some sort of apology, but even in his lust for her he wasn't going to give her one.   
  
"You assumed correctly. I always refuse to write letters of recommendation on the grounds that no one who has asked me has earned it. However, had I refused you, Albus would have written it for me and forced me to sign it. You aren't aware of this, but we had already discussed the matter."   
  
"I wouldn't have been able to ask anyway, considering..." she fumbled over her words and Snape knew why. If her initial feelings had begun in her last year, it would have been too embarrassing for her to approach him alone and ask for something he would refuse to give her. But he wanted to hear her say it.   
  
"Considering what?"   
  
"Considering that I doubt I could have... well..."   
  
"Been alone with me long enough to ask?"   
  
"Yes." Her response was almost guilty-sounding.   
  
"I am more than twenty years your senior." He set the ladle back down on the table and turned to look directly at her.   
  
"I am aware."   
  
"It doesn't make you uncomfortable?"   
  
"Not at all. Does it make you uncomfortable?"   
  
"I believe you'd find few men my age that would be uncomfortable with such thoughts. I must admit that I have had less time than you to become acquainted with the idea, however."   
  
"So then you're not..." and she gave him an encouraging look, expecting him to finish the sentence for her.   
  
"So then I'm not what?"   
  
"I mean... you feel... the idea... isn't..." she stammered.   
  
Snape took three steps closer towards her and peered down at the woman in front of him.   
  
"I would not be bothered by such arrangements, no." he half-whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. He stopped just before their lips met and waited for her to close the rest of the gap, thus ensuring that it was what she wanted. He felt her thrust herself forward slightly and their lips met.   
  
Snape's hands found his way to Hermione's backside again, cupping each cheek with a hand and pulling them slightly apart. She thrust her hips forward and ground into him slightly. Snape was convinced she was doing that on purpose to arouse him. It was working. His pants suddenly took on a tight feeling and he instinctively ground back into Hermione's pelvis. A small moan escaped her lips.   
  
- - -   
  
Hermione's mind was racing. The idea of them having had some semblance of a non-sexual conversation followed by what was most likely going to be the culmination of many fantasies was almost too good to be true. When she had left Snape's rooms, she was convinced this would never happen. Her mind was reeling now and clumsily she reached up and began undressing him.   
  
For the second time that night she fumbled with the heavy buttons on his robes then his outer jacket. She didn't remember taking of his cloak, but there it was on the floor wrapped around their feet. His featherweight white shirt, pants and underwear joined it minutes later. Hermione broke the kiss and stood back to look at him and a smile of utter joy crossed her face.   
  
"You're freezing. We shouldn't do this here," he said.   
  
"What?"   
  
And then Hermione realized she too was naked - and freezing. Her mind hadn't registered the fact that the shaking of her body was from the frigid temperature. It was drunk on hormones and not paying attention to her surroundings. Reality then hit her and she came to the realization that Snape had undressed her without her noticing. He had left only her socks on, to protect her feet against the stone floor.   
  
She looked down at herself, unembarrassed in absolute awe.   
  
"How did you...? I don't remember you doing that." But Snape didn't give her time to ponder the answer; he had closed the short distance between them, shot her a wicked smile and wrapped her in his arms. Moments later they were standing in a room full of warm lighting and a roaring fire.   
  
Hermione stood there in shock. She had assumed when they Apparated into the castle before, that Snape had his wand in his pocket. It was quite clear now that he had no wand. How had he done that?   
  
"How did you Apparate without a wand?" She asked. But again, he gave her no answer, just a wicked smile. He then wasted no time in laying her down on a bed she hadn't noticed was there and began running his lips down her neck, starting at the tiny alcove just behind her ear.   
  
All thoughts of magical theory left her mind and all she could concentrate on were the soft lips parading down her body. He made his way towards her collarbone and placed small kisses down her sternum. She laid back, feeling the heavy warmth of his body above her and waited in anticipation of when she would feel those lips again on her nipples. When the warmth moved towards her left breast, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He took a nipple in his mouth and she instantly felt her body respond. It was a slow tingling between her legs and it shot straight up her back. She moaned in response and saw a small gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.   
  
She wrapped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him up to kiss her again. He nestled himself between her legs and Hermione noted the strong arms were now propping him up so that he wouldn't crush her.   
  
"No more foreplay," she said in a lusty voice she'd never heard herself use before. Her words were met with the raising of an eyebrow. Snape moved his hands so they cradled the back of her skull, but made no move to enter her like she wanted. He merely manipulated her head left and right to kiss her ears, cheeks and chin.   
  
"Severus, please," she said again, half panting this time.   
  
"So impatient," he whispered back into her ear and then she felt his hips position themselves properly between her legs.   
  
- - -   
  
She was so beautiful like this, Snape noted. And she was so anxious as well, almost as if she had waited a lifetime for this and could wait no longer. He loved the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips, the way her head cradled so perfectly in his hands and the way her lips opened just slightly when aroused. He wanted her, sure, but he wanted to take his time to enjoy her beauty, her warmth and her company. He was still half unsure this was really happening. Joy like this never came in his life and it wouldn't be inconceivable that this was some sort of sick joke being played on him by one of his enemies. But none of that mattered. He was too aroused to turn back even if this were Voldemort in disguise.   
  
When she said his name he couldn't restrain himself any longer. He positioned himself so that he was touching just the outer portion of her opening. He could feel the heat and wetness coming from it. It was the first sign that she wasn't feigning her level of arousal. He entered her in one slow, yet continued motion while watching her face. Hermione had her eyes closed shut and she looked as if she were concentrating. A brief moment of horror crossed his mind when he realized she could be thinking of someone else.   
  
When he was completely inside of her he stopped. He wanted to never forget the first time he entered her, not to mention the fact that he needed to slow so that this didn't end too soon. He memorized the feeling of warmth that surrounded him and the way her face shone in the light.   
  
"Open your eyes," he said softly. When she saw his face, she smiled sweetly up at him and he felt so whole and complete at that moment. It was almost a look of love, although Snape wouldn't allow himself to believe it was anything more than coital bliss. He couldn't help it, but his own lips betrayed him and he smiled slightly back at her. When he did this, he felt her tighten around his cock. Despite the fact that her cheeks were flushed due to arousal, Snape noticed the signs in her face that she was blushing as a result of her bodily response to him.   
  
He began to pull out of her slowly and she moaned in response. Snape placed a hand behind her back and arched it as he levitated her off of the bed slightly. He then began moving in and out of her while watching her face. She had closed her eyes again and her head was tilted slightly back.   
  
- - - Amazing. His movements were so gentle, controlled and nothing like what she had experienced with her previous lovers. He had arched her back for some reason, but she wasn't about to complain. Her body was responding quite well to what should have been an uncomfortable position. She closed her eyes to further concentrate on the rush of blood through her body and the feeling of him inside of her. She could still feel the heat of his chest and his breathing above her. Just moments later she began to feel it; the subtle tingling deep inside of her. She moaned in response to it, knowing it was a subtle hint to Snape that he was doing something right.   
  
He wasn't even moving all the way in and out of her, she noted with some subconscious part of her brain. The movements continued in a rhythmic and persistent manner and then he placed his lips over her right nipple and a shot of electricity went through her body. It sped up her breathing and an overwhelming sense of pleasure rushed from the area between her legs down to her toes. The muscles deep inside her belly began to contract and she heard a small cry erupt from her lips. Twenty seconds later it was over: her first orgasm.   
  
She opened her eyes and saw Snape staring down at her. Left shaking from the experience, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close to cling on to him. He had stopped the gentle movement of his hips, but had not left her. She laid there for what must have been a minute, just hugging the warm body above her and breathing heavily in his ear.   
  
"Again?" he asked gently.   
  
Again. She couldn't even comprehend 'again'. She thought back to the pleasure rising up in her and the moment of release. It was quickly becoming a fading memory. Yes, again. She had to get it back.   
  
"Please," and he began thrusting his hips gently in the way he had before bringing her to climax four times before she felt his movements becoming more exaggerated. She suspected this was his chance to release and he buried his head beside hers. A minute later she heard him grunt several times and then collapse on top of her.   
  
- - -   
  
Snape opened his eyes. He was fully dressed and laying on a carpet in front of a fire. His head felt slightly dizzy and only the smell of cedar wood was preventing him from becoming disoriented and nauseous.   
  
A minor panic erupted in him in realization that it had all been a dream, but then he saw her laying just feet from him. In between them was a red and black bowl encrusted with silver writing:   
  


PENSIEVE FOR LOVERS

  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and smiled lovingly at him.   
  
"Happy Anniversary, Severus."   
  
  
  
  
  
----------------  
Updated: 11/23/02   
  
Again, it hasn't been beta-read, so I apologize for rough dialog, canon problems, bad grammar and spelling mistakes.   
  
I do hope you enjoyed it. I apologize for it taking so long to release. I wanted to not write so close to the movie for CoS coming out.   
  
I hope the end was satisfying. =) 


End file.
